Closer to You
by Guyute24
Summary: All he wants is to get just a little bit closer... Complete, epilogue posted. IYYYH crossover. JinSangoHiei KagKur implied.
1. Part One:  Open Space

**A/N: Happy Birthday, Moon Step...even if it is two months late**

_**Part One: Open Space**_

"_How long an hour can take, when you're staring into open space. When I feel I'm slipping further away, I remember that everyday I get a little bit closer to you." --The Wallflowers_

_&&&&_

Jin was a curious sort.

He rather thought it one of his more endearing qualities, really, though Touya said it just made him a pain in the ass. Jin didn't mind; he _was _a pain in the ass. And he liked it that way. More than once he'd considered if perhaps this was the reason he and Yusuke got along so well.

Still, his relationship with Yusuke aside, Jin couldn't help but wonder if it was this natural curiosity, or something more, that drew him to her.

Her.

A human...

...A _demon slayer_.

It was preposterous at best. He didn't even like humans, not really. Smelly creatures, they were. Wore their decay and vice like a winter coat. Vile and stupid in most cases, Jin had never spared them a passing thought until Yusuke came along.

And what's worse, a demon slayer. Gods, he wasn't even going to get into that.

And yet despite it all, he was absolutely fascinated by her.

They hadn't much to say to one another at first, which might have been unusual for him had it not been for the fact that he rarely saw them. And though he seldom crossed them, it was enough for him to know something wasn't right. Jin always was more perceptive than he appeared, and he was more than a little certain they were hiding something. That they were involved with Yusuke at all was enough to support the theory.

Kurama, especially, had tried to keep things quiet (Jin was under the impression then—and now—that it had been for the priestess' sake, though the fox would die before he'd admit to having a..._crush_ he believed the humans called it...on a 17 year-old human girl. He was, after all, pushing 1,000), but Jin wasn't stupid. Honestly, just watching their reaction to the most simple devices had been evidence enough for him to put things together.

All it took was a good strong bottle of firewater for Yusuke's lips to get loose.

He hadn't asked the details of how they all met, but he wasn't really surprised at all. Hell, it was damn near universal law. Honestly, how long could two groups of substantial strength and spiritual ability go on functioning in the same general locale without eventually running into one another? It was a cosmic imperative in his opinion.

But that wasn't the point, and Jin didn't give a fuck anyway. She interested him, and as far as he was concerned, it was enough.

* * *

"You know, you could just go talk to her."

Damn that frosty little bugger. Always trying to make sense of things. "It's not so easy, lad."

"I find that rather hard to believe in your case," the ice master intoned. "You could talk the ears off an elephant youkai."

He cast Touya a rather pointed glare, though even his most serious stare came out in good humor. The wind apparition heaved an exaggerated sigh. It wasn't as though he hadn't tried that before, anyway. Once. They'd spoken just once outside of casual pleasantries, and Jin would forever recall the incident as one of the most embarrassing of his life.

Honestly, the words had just spilled out, and for the life of him, he still had no idea where they or the accompanying lapse in judgment had come from, but suffice it to say, he wouldn't be doing it again.

At least, he didn't think so.

If nothing else, he could say he'd learned a very valuable lesson about human females that day, he reflected, rubbing the needles he could almost swear were still there from under the skin of his cheek. Damn, she had a hell of a backhand...though, he felt it somewhat necessary to keep that information to himself for the moment.

"Ah, you wouldn't understand."

"What's not to understand?" The ice master was looking more and more amused by the second. "You like this girl," Touya held out a hand to stop the interruption he knew was coming, "and don't bother denying it because we all know better—and rather than just _talking_ to her, _which_ I am under the distinct impression you are afraid to do, you've opted for stalking instead."

Jin gaped like a landed trout. "I...I don't _stalk_," he stammered. "I observe."

Touya quirked an incredulous brow. "You stalk. Which, might I add, could be considered creepy by human standards."

"Now listen here—" but the look of _'don't insult my intelligence, I've known you entirely too long for you to hide anything from me' _stopped him cold. Jin sighed, frustrated with himself. "I don't...Gah! I don't _know_, lad," the wind apparition kicked up his legs and floated mid-air on his back. "There's just somethin' about her. It's not even that I like her—not that I'm opposed to a good roll in the hay—but I just..."

"Bullshit."

Jin sat up and faced him, still floating.

"I've never seen you get this worked up over a casual rut," Touya remarked pointedly. "You like this girl."

"Maybe," Jin grumbled and placed his hands behind his head and looked up into the clear, blue sky. "It's more than just that, tho' lad. It's like...like I _know_ her somehow. Like...ah, forget it, man."

Touya never was one easily dissuaded. "Like?"

"I said forget it."

"Not a chance," the ice apparition grinned broadly, thoroughly enjoying his companion's discomfort.

Jin exhaled heavily, knowing there was no way Touya would ever let him just drop the subject. The ice apparition was like a pit bull sinking his teeth in when it came to anything he had an actual interest in knowing.

"...Home," he responded quietly, forcing down the heat in his cheeks. "She feels like home."

The smirk melted off Touya's face like watercolors in the rain. "Those are serious words, my friend."

For once in his life, Jin had nothing to say.

"You hardly know this girl," Touya observed.

"Not at all, really," he concurred.

The ice master was quiet for a time, staring off toward the same clearing Jin had been focused on for the better part of the day. She was there of course, at a distance, working the same kata she'd been perfecting for at least the last hour. The slayer was rather precise for a human, he'd give her that. And not bad looking either, Touya had to admit. Her body was lean, toned in a way most humans couldn't manage. She was such a tiny thing it was hard to tell it, though. Often Touya couldn't help but think if it weren't for that enormous and utterly ridiculous looking weapon she kept strapped to her back, a good stiff breeze would have blown her right off her feet.

He was decidedly smart enough to keep this information to himself, however.

Hiei had not been so wise. And one cool, Autumn eve when their acquaintance was still relatively fresh and enough firewater to drown the neighboring city was consumed on their part (and by their he meant the boys of the group...at least, he thought so...most of the evening remained very, _very_ fuzzy), the demon had made this observation, along with a number of doubts concerning her abilities, known...rather vocally. And loudly.

Watching Hiei get his drunk ass handed to him by a human girl was, quite frankly, the funniest shit Touya had ever seen in his life.

A smile tugged at the corner of the ice master's lips. Hell, no wonder Jin was so taken with her.

"Alright," he said, clapping his hands once in a show of resolve. "I think it's just about time you did, then, don't you?"

"I told ya, lad," the wind apparition sighed, "it's not so easy."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is," Touya rebutted, meeting his comrade's eyes with sincerity. "Go to the girl. Get to know her while you've got the chance."

Jin seemed surprised at his response and looked about to protest before the ice master cut him off with a pointed stare. "Go to the girl," he repeated for emphasis. "Before someone else does."

* * *

As it turned out, someone did.

And he choked down the irony, bitter in his throat, as the electric sting of steel on steel burned the evening air around them over and again, as it had every night for the last three and a half weeks. Touya had been right, of course, not that Jin would ever tell him. Hell, he wouldn't have to. By now he was certain pretty much everyone they knew had become suspicious of the time the slayer had been spending with the fire apparition.

It burned and crushed inside his chest for reasons he had yet to fully understand, though he thought it might have to do with the knowing that, indeed, it was entirely his fault.

He'd been stalk—ahem, _observing_ her for nearly four months when the other demon had approached her in the field that day with the focus of fierce rage. Jin couldn't say what prompted the anger, but it didn't matter—with Hiei, there needn't be a cause, only a victim.

They met each other with the force of a thousand waves breaking upon the shore, striking and cursing in a vicious symphony. Had Jin only the tiniest doubt of her ability, he'd have intervened on her behalf, knowing what the forbidden one was truly capable of.

He didn't move a muscle. After all, he knew precisely what Sango was capable of, too.

Still, it left a deeper hollow in the pit of his chest, one that he didn't care to identify. And when it was finally over, and the demon's anger spent as they held one another at the mercy of trembling blade and baited breath, Jin felt his heart plummet straight to his knees with bitter realization.

They'd been dancing.

And would continue to do so, every night from that point on, with he as a silent witness.

The wind apparition sighed heavily, turning away from the latest in a series of ever-longer pauses and awkward spaces between the two. He should've just walked away then, and he knew it. He was unsure of her intentions, but Hiei's were quite clear as far as Jin was concerned, though he doubted that even Hiei knew it just yet. Regardless, it wasn't often someone like Hiei opened himself to another in any way, and the part of Jin that wanted to be a good comrade (he told himself that it was not so much for Hiei's benefit, as it was simply the way of things) told him he should've just bowed out gracefully.

But then, there was the rest of him. The part that, up until recently, had never backed down from anything, never sat by idly and watched what he wanted slip away without so much as a breath of protest. The overwhelming part of him that told him it was time to _do_ something. Yes, there was the rest of him.

...And the rest of him said to Hell with Hiei.

&&&&

**Part two up shortly. Thanks for reading, and please feed the author! **


	2. Part Two: Whisper

**A/N: No, I don't have internet. No, my crappy computer still won't save to anything other than the desktop. I do, however, have a printer. Thus, I've printed off a couple of things and brought them to my mother's house to re-typeset for you all. I wouldn't look for this to happen often, as I have very little spare time on my hands, but you all have waited so very long, it's the least I could do. If you're curious about the status of my other stories, check my profile.**

**Just a few changes to this particular piece, however. I've decided to split this into three parts as opposed to the two I had originally anticipated. The second chapter ended up so much longer than the first, I opted for consistency. The story is complete, and with luck, I'll have time to come typeset the last chapter in the next couple of weeks. No promises.**

**I do hope you all enjoy, and as always, my sincerest apologies for the wait. Thank you all so much for the love and support, and if you are so inclined, please feed the author. Peace.**_**  
**_

_**Part Two: Whisper**_

"_How soft a whisper can get  
When you're walking through a crowded space  
I hear every word being said  
And I remember that everyday  
I get a little bit closer to you" –The Wallflowers_

Kurama paused, blinking. "Excuse me?"

The wind master shifted on his feet, looking more than a little uncomfortable in his own skin. Kurama couldn't help but notice it wasn't the first time he'd appeared this way, lately.

"You heard me, man," Jin asserted, hoping this was, in fact, the case. He wasn't looking forward to repeating himself.

"...Yes," the fox spoke as though perhaps he'd missed out on part of the equation. "Forgive me, Jin. It is simply that I have no knowledge in this particular matter. Perhaps Yusuke..."

Jin quirked a brow, clearly incredulous, as he allowed his gaze to slip slowly, deliberately beyond Kurama and into the room just through the sliding glass doors.

This time it was Kurama's turn to shift slightly, knowing exactly what Jin was looking at. He was, of course, proven right when the wind apparition met his gaze once again, an easy, omniscient grin plastered to his face.

"I assure you, it is not as it appears," Kurama remarked, though Jin thought he detected just the slightest hint of...was it embarrassment? Discomfort? Unease in his tone? Whatever it was, Jin was distinctly reminded of that human proverb about the little boy with his hand in the cookie jar, and he couldn't help but find the whole situation infinitely funny.

"Really now, Kurama," Jin teased. "That what she'd say?" he asked, gesturing toward the priestess sitting on the floor with her sock feet tucked beneath her bottom, paying them no mind as she munched happily on her popcorn, totally engrossed in their film of choice.

The kitsune sighed, knowing quite well he would never get anywhere with Jin when he was like this, though still willing to make a futile attempt. "I'm not certain why you feel that I would be the proper authority on courting human females--"

"Kurama," she said, poking her head out the door curiously. "Oh! Hello, Jin," Kagome greeted him pleasantly upon discovering his presence. He smiled and nodded his salutation, and the priestess continued undeterred. "Mama called; she wants to know if you like miso with dinner...are you feeling all right, Kurama? Your cheeks look flushed."

The priestess padded out onto the porch and stood on tiptoes before him, tilting his head down to bring her lips gently to his forehead. She pulled back, oblivious to the silent snickering behind her and Kurama's nervous shuffling. "You don't _feel_ warm," she murmured.

"You can tell her that miso is just fine, Kagome," Kurama said, turning her gently by the shoulders and guiding her once more toward the den from which she came. "I'll be in shortly."

He met the demon's obviously amused gaze with a sort of grim acceptance as the door slid shut once more. "Alright," he sighed. "What do you want to know?"

Jin grinned brightly. _Hmm, maybe he should take notes._

* * *

"This wasn't part of the deal, you know."

The dark apparition appeared from the treetops like a lightning strike, expression one of cool indifference though the black fire danced behind his claret eyes like a symphony of destruction waiting to be unleashed.

"Your _deal _ is no concern of mine, ice master," he spoke coolly, "and my motives are none of yours. I do as I please."

Touya shifted, distinctly uncomfortable. Perhaps he shouldn't say it, but he would anyway. "You like this girl, don't you, Hiei?"

The venom in the fire apparition's tone was barely in check, and had Touya been a lesser demon he might have crumbled beneath the weight of the more powerful youkai's glare. "I should slit you end to end," Hiei spat.

"Because I'm right?" the ice apparition pushed, knowing it might mean his death, but not particularly caring. He was on to something, he knew, and while it wasn't typically in his nature to meddle in the affairs of his acquaintances, this was important. This was about Jin. He was more than an acquaintance, he was a brother.

Still, it was difficult to remember with the blade pressed into his chin. "You're not nearly as intelligent as you'd like to think," the fire apparition growled, putting just the slightest bit of pressure into the blade. Blood pooled at the tip, swelling around the sharpest edge at the base of Touya's throat before it slipped in a thin stream down the slender slope of his neck and under the mesh of his robe.

To his credit, the ice master did not so much as flinch, though his voice was tight as he spoke. "You were supposed to ruffle his feathers," Touya said, thinking back on their previous arrangement. The plan had been simple, really. Hiei was to physically engage the slayer in some way, indirectly goading the wind demon into action. In exchange, Touya would use his contacts in the demon and living worlds to Hiei's advantage. Everyone knew the fire demon was perpetually searching for something of value and had been for virtually his entire life, though no one was quite certain just what it was he was looking for. In any case, it had been enough (along with a good deal of convincing and Touya's finest means of persuasion) to pique Hiei's interest.

Somewhere along the way the tables had turned.

"She's getting to you," Touya husked, wincing as he attempted to swallow past the blade. "She's in your head."

Rage, raw and unadulterated, flared in the depths of the demon's eyes, and for a moment, Touya thought he was staring into the face of death. "You know nothing," Hiei hissed, drawing back to deal the ice apparition a blow like thunder.

It wouldn't have been a killing strike, he realized; however, Touya seized the moment for what it was, and slipped out from the angry fire apparition's grasp, forming a barrier of ice around himself and collecting energy in his fists in preparation.

"I know enough," he panted, keeping his opponent under careful scrutiny though he did not immediately pursue. For several long and ragged breaths, the two kept a wary eye, each silent and calculating in their observation.

Seconds stretched on like lifetimes before Hiei lowered his blade, sheathing it with an irritated snort. "I've not time nor patience for this nonsense," he spoke as though he no longer had the energy for anything other than total apathy. "You would do well to forget your deals, and mind your own business, Shinobi."

Touya rescinded the chill of his barrier as the demon turned to walk away, but a part of him just couldn't resist... "You could have killed me easily," he noted. "Not so very long ago, senseless murder was your forte."

Hiei paused in his step, though he did not turn.

"I have to wonder," the ice master continued, "what's changed?"

Hiei gave no verbal response, though he wasn't expecting one. The slight skitter in his step told Touya all he needed to know. His association with Yusuke might have dampened the fire apparition's more bloodthirsty tendencies, but it wouldn't be enough to save anyone stupid enough to really press his buttons. No, the ice apparition knew there was more to it than that.

She _was_ getting to him. And it scared him to death.

* * *

Connected.

He'd never really felt that way before, even with his shinobi brethren. Most shinobi were chosen from birth, having no say in the matter of their life's path. Jin had been no exception, and though he'd not change anything, he knew that not all of his cohorts could say the same. The practice was somewhat outdated in Jin's opinion, and it bred resentment. Resentment filled the heart with anger and mistrust –hate – all unworthy emotions that clouded one's objective. At least, that's what his own master had told him, and Jin had seen it. Ricchio had been a prime example.

In any case, the way he figured it, the heart had little room for anything more than simple camaraderie with things like that crammed in it.

Jin had never minded. He was a simple creature, and he saw no point in dwelling on could-have-beens. Besides, one couldn't very well miss something they'd never actually had, and Jin suspected that even with the opportunity, his very nature would never allow him to _connect_ with anyone.

Until now. With a human girl he'd only really spoken to a handful of times and shared one rather embarrassing groping incident with. For the life of him he _still_ didn't know what he'd been thinking that day. It was the closest he'd ever come to an out-of-body experience, and Jin was fairly certain it had been the beginning of his complete mental collapse, because from that point on, he was positive he must be losing his mind.

"Man, just hurry up and pick something so we can get outta here," Yusuke grouched, causing the wind master to startle a bit. "You look ridiculous."

He had a point, Jin realized. Here he was, out in broad daylight at a Tokyo market, wearing this tragedy of a human outfit that was supposed to hide his less-than-human qualities but really just looked like someone had stuffed him into a pygmy-sized jumpsuit and overcoat in his near seven-foot frame.

Yes, he'd definitely lost his mind.

Still, he scowled at the detective from underneath the rim of his fedora. He was here on a mission, damn it, and he wasn't going to leave until he found what he was looking for. Whatever _that_ was and damned if he knew.

"You leave him alone," Keiko chastised, wandering up from a neighboring booth. "I think it's sweet."

"You would," Yusuke grumbled. _Gods_ but he hated to shop. Honestly, he deserved an award for this crap. This was above and beyond the call of friendship. If Kurama hadn't been stuck with his mother for the day he'd be the one playing demon chauffeur/tour guide, right now, and Yusuke would be spending some quality time thrashing Kuwabara at video-games or irritating dog boy.

But _NO_.

"And what's so damned sweet about it, anyway?" he asked. Honestly, he didn't even know what they were there for! Jin hadn't given him any details, though he'd known it must have been important for the wind master to ask. Jin never asked him for anything. The sheer oddness of his request had drawn Yusuke's interest enough to suck it up and take him into town.

He was beginning to regret that decision.

"Don't be such a jerk, Yusuke!" Keiko cuffed him on the arm, and the detective feigned hurt with a whiny 'owww' as he rubbed his bicep. "He's getting something for Sango."

Jin tensed beneath the jacket, fighting down the color in his cheeks. Leave it to a damned girl to out you to your pals.

"Sango?" Yusuke asked, apparently confused. "What the --"

Keiko cut him off with a sharp look and another blow to the arm.

"Damn it, Keiko, cut it out!" Yusuke hollered and rubbed his arm, pouting. That one actually hurt. "Besides, I'm just curious."

He was more than curious, really. He was worried. As much as he thrived on conflict, Yusuke didn't like to see it between his friends. He supposed it was possible Jin was unaware of the apparent..._situation_ brewing between Sango and Hiei, but he highly doubted it. This, he knew, could get very ugly and probably would.

Not that it was his place to say anything, because it wasn't, and he wouldn't. But still...

"Maybe--"

"Oh! How about this, Jin?"

Damn it. He hated it when she interrupted him. Yusuke got the impression she did it intentionally at times, just to keep him from saying anything she deemed less-than-intelligent or inflammatory. Like he would ever do that. Seriously.

The wind apparition glanced over, examining the glittering blade Keiko had discovered at an ancient weapons booth. It was beautiful, indeed. Dragon hilt with gold inlay—intricate work overall, not cheap by any means. She would probably love it.

Jin shook his head, laying it carefully back into place. "No weapons," he said, firm in his decision, though not unappreciative of Keiko's effort. Sango was a weapon in and of herself. Trained and honed and tempered as such from birth. She defined herself by it—wrongly, in Jin's opinion.

She was so much more. And he intended to prove it to her.

The detective sighed loudly, irritated at having been cut off and tired of their perusing. "Well, what exactly are you looking for?"

Jin shrugged. "Dunno, lad," he said noncommittally, examining a set of of jewel encrusted barrettes. He set them down. They wouldn't suit her. "Guess I'll know when I find it."

The detective groaned. "Well, I wish you'd find it a little faster. We've been here for an hour and a half, already."

"Don't be such a baby," Keiko remarked, eliciting a frustrated snort but no further comment from the peanut gallery. "Come on, Jin," she soothed, though it wasn't necessary, and took him by the arm. "There are some really beautiful scarves and things up this way."

Sango didn't really seem like much of a scarf kind of girl, but who was he to argue with Keiko?

Fortunately for Jin, something caught his eye just before he was lost to the dismal abyss that was women's clothing. He halted in his step, inadvertently jerking Keiko back by the sheer abruptness of it. Yusuke snickered, and she cast him a dirty look, but Jin wasn't really paying attention to either one of them.

"Did you find something?" Keiko inquired curiously as he slipped from her grip and crossed the walkway.

Slowly, almost reverently, he lifted the item into his palm for closer study, running his finger along the smooth ridges. "Aye," he murmured. "I think maybe so, lass."

She came to peer around his arm for closer inspection, ignoring the cry of "finally!" from behind her, and knit her brow in confusion as she took a moment to process the object he held. "You think that's it?" she asked, clearly skeptical.

Jin could understand. It wasn't much, after all, but something about it just called to him. The wind master felt the surface over and again in his palm, relishing in the strange combination of comfort and burden it summoned within his chest. It was familiar to him somehow, though he couldn't quite place it. A shroud of haunting recognition settled into his vision like a distant dream—bizarre and not altogether welcoming, yet oddly soothing in the turmoil that roiled up inside him. He shuddered, feeling the blood leave his face, and Jin suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

"You okay, man?" Yusuke asked, nudging him with his elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Maybe he had. Jin didn't know, and he couldn't explain it, but he couldn't explain most things these days, it seemed. He took it in stride, as he had most everything else, and did the best he could to just let it roll off his back. At least, that was the plan.

The wind apparition inhaled deeply, taking a moment to shake the fog from his mind before he nodded, trying not to appear as shaken as he felt on the inside.

"Right as the rain, I am," he replied, grinning for good measure. "Whatta ya think, lad? Should I get it for her?" he asked, though he already knew he would. One thing was certain, whether he gave it to Sango or not, he couldn't leave it here.

"Well," Yusuke began, gesturing just up the way. "I guess there's the person to ask."

Jin squirmed. Damn it. The priestess was browsing porcelain goods about two booths down when she spotted them, and now she was headed their way. Honestly, was everyone he knew going to show up to share in his awkwardness today?

"Hey guys!" Kagome smiled, greeting Keiko with a hug. "Jin," she acknowledged, a bit surprised. "What are you doing here?"

The apparition shifted on his feet slightly, and Yusuke chuckled. "Go ahead, Don Juan, tell her."

Keiko shot the detective a disapproving glare, and Jin flushed, clenching the beads in his hand tightly. Somehow, he knew he should have just waited for Kurama. "Well, I..."

"He's looking for something for Sango," Yusuke blurted, wincing when Keiko elbowed him in the side.

Kagome's lips formed in a silent "oh," though she didn't really seem surprised. She smiled gently, tilting her head to the side as she assessed the demon before her. It wasn't the first time she'd looked at him this way, and truthfully, it unnerved Jin. He liked Kagome, she was smart, funny and had proven a valuable asset in their motley crew of misfits. However, something about the way she looked at him at times—as though she knew more about him than he did—it troubled him.

"May I see?" she asked, gesturing toward the hand he'd instinctively placed behind his back.

He sighed, opening his palm before her. "What do ya think, girl? Would she like it?" he inquired hopefully in his light Irish lilt.

Kagome's gaze was a million miles away when she looked at him, unshed tears pooling in the deepening blue of her eyes. Her smile grew melancholy but genuine, and with trembling fingers, she closed his hand to his chest, letting it slip quietly through his fingers, around his wrist and forearm.

"It's perfect."


	3. Part Three: When you needed me

**A/N: Well, I know it took a little longer than I'd hoped, but I finally had time to peck it all back out. And then some. This chapter is slightly longer than the other two, largely because once I started re-typing, I kept tweaking things. At any rate, the story is complete in and of itself, though an epilogue is possible in the near future. No promises.**

**Thanks so much to everyone that's read and reviewed. Most especially to YFate, whose work is oh-so-much-better than mine and you should all go read. And to Moon Step, who, while she no longer really dabbles here, remains my initial inspiration. This one's still very much for you, love. Happy very late birthday. **

**That said, I hope you all enjoy.**

_**Part Three: When you needed me**_

_"You know there's nowhere else I've wanted to be, than be here when you needed me. I'm sorry, too, but don't give up on me. And just remember that when you were asleep, I got a little bit closer to you." --The Wallflowers, Closer to You_

Sango eased her shirt back with a hiss, exposing her swelling shoulder and wincing as the already flowering bruise worked deep into the muscle of her bicep. Damn. Hiraikotsu would be more difficult to work with for a while, that was certain.

"Is this what it's going to be?" he asked, dangerously quiet from the shadows of the room, frustration hanging like a thundercloud above them. "You just gonna have him beat the shit outta you until you forget?"

It was an old argument between the two, and she evaded the question as she always had.

"What are you doing here, Inuyasha?" she sighed, tiredly. "I thought you weren't coming back until Tuesday."

It was common repartee between them by now, but it didn't ease the hanyou's mind, whether he understood the logic behind it or not. Which he did, of course. They were more alike than either of them cared to admit, and it had taken him some time to put it together, but eventually, he'd made sense of it.

Above all things, Sango was a warrior.

Warriors, as Inuyasha had come to learn, do not break. No matter how fragile they may be.

Sango was no exception, and in the three some-odd years he had known her, only once—after every horror and painful beating of the heart she'd taken—just once had Inuyasha seen her give in to the basic human need to cry.

She went on, carrying the pride of a dead village on her shoulders. Relentlessly, she threw herself into battle, time and time again—a goddess of war and destruction. It was only after he caught her in a fit of rage, beating the hell out of herself one night that he understood.

This was how Sango cried.

Knowing why and being able to relate didn't make it any easier to watch, however.

He pushed away from the wall, a blanket of shadow slipping from his body as he stalked into the light of the kitchen and opened the freezer, reaching for one of the many ice packs Kagome kept there.

She was slower in her approach, limping as she was, and by the time she'd made it to the table, the hanyou had already brought a chair and motioned for her to sit.

"You don't have to baby me," she fussed, attempting to snatch the pack from his grasp. "I can do it myself."

"Shut up, idiot," he groused, smacking at her hand. He eyed the angle of the wound. "Take your shirt off, I can't get to it like this."

She didn't even argue him on it, anymore. Inuyasha had seen her without a shirt more times than she had at this point. There was nothing sexual or strange about it. They were hurt often in their travels, and pure necessity outranked modesty. It was second nature at this point.

Slowly, she slipped the garment up her torso to her shoulders. Getting it over her head would be the hard part, and Sango bit down on her lip to avoid crying out when she stretched her arms upward.

Inuyasha drew a sharp breath, and Sango realized it must have been worse than she thought. He must have really worked her over good, this time.

"Gods," the half-demon whispered, suddenly angry. If not for the fact that he'd known Hiei was in nearly as bad of shape, and that she had likely instigated the incident and drug it on, Inuyasha would have gone and beaten the fire apparition to death with his own arms. "What the hell did he do, run over you with a bus?"

It looked that way. Some of the wounds were old, he could tell, but the bruises covered more of her skin than its natural color—her midsection looking more like an overripe plum than human flesh. She might have broken a rib, he decided, and the deep, angry gashes on her torso were too many to count.

"Here," he said, applying the ice pack to her shoulder and placing her hand to hold it in place. "Hold this." Inuyasha began pilfering through drawers until he found a bottle of iodine and some bandages. He set them on the table beside her with an angry thwack. "What the hell are you thinking, Sango?"

The demon slayer turned away subtly, hissing when the iodine made contact with the first open cut. "We fight, Inuyasha," she intoned. "Sometimes, we get hurt."

"_This_," he said, grabbing her less injured arm to bring the dark, angry furrows along her forearm into her line of sight for emphasis, "is not fighting, Sango. _This_ is just sadistic. I don't know which is worse: the fact that you let him do it or that you practically beg him to."

She shrugged, too tired to engage him on something she normally might have reamed him for, and they said nothing for several long minutes as he worked. It was a companionable silence, though Inuyasha could tell the demon slayer was in pain by the way her muscles ticked and her skin prickled.

Still, she never breathed a word. He'd give her credit for her poker face, if nothing else.

"It's done," he spoke quietly as he did his best to clean the dirt from a wound already clotting. It could get infected that way, he knew. "Kaede says the well should be ready by Saturday."

Sango stiffened right down to her toes. So, that's why he was back early.

"So?" she asked, voice strained under the weight of some unknown emotion.

He stopped scrubbing and peered around the side of her face, hoping to gauge an expression. "So," he began, forcing down the rising frustration in his tone, "you should go."

"There is no need," she said, tension building in her shoulders. Really, how could he expect her to go back there, even for just a short time? Sango felt her head starting to swim, every gut-wrenching failure creeping up into her chest.

Surprisingly enough, Inuyasha kept his cool. "Shippou will ask questions."

"No he won't."

True enough, he realized. The little fox demon had stopped asking about Sango a long time ago. "You're never going to find your place here until you say goodbye there," he said, voice low with irritation and a startling insight that Sango felt a bit too much for him to have come up with on his own.

"What the hell do you care?" she barked, having been pushed past the bounds of apathy. "You're never around anymore, anyway!"

The hanyou stepped back, spinning her chair so that she met him nose to nose. "Well that's a hell of a thing to say!" he snapped, having lost all semblance of calm. "It's time to get your head outta your ass and stop chasing ghosts, Sango!"

"Chasing ghosts?" she asked rhetorically, anger leaping like flames from the depths of her eyes. "_You_ want to talk to _me_ about chasing ghosts? I'm not the one who abandoned the one good thing that's ever happened to me to go live out the rest of my days in search of a dead woman! Honestly, do you have any idea how hurt Kagome was?"

The hanyou went completely still, an old pain in his eyes that Sango might have regretted bringing up if she weren't so damned angry. It hadn't been an easy decision for him, but it was only the right thing to do. He didn't belong in this world, and even if he could get passed the fact, he'd never be able to give Kagome what she needed so long as his heart knew he let Kikyou wander like some kind of animal. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Inuyasha cleared his throat, suddenly cool in his expression. "Kagome moved on," he said quietly. "Maybe you should, too."

"Whatever," she grumbled, pushing the hanyou aside to brush by, tugging her shirt back into place over her shoulders forcefully and ignoring her body's painful plea. "Just leave me alone."

He stopped her with a tight grip upon her wrist, though she did not turn to face him. "You think this is what he would want?"

"Don't," she breathed.

"It doesn't have to be like this," he spoke, voice a mere whisper though it swelled and burned like a cherry bomb between them. "Your village is gone, Sango. Your father is dead. Kohaku is dead.

"Miroku is—"

"Stop it, Inuyasha," she husked.

"—closer than you think." The girl went stone still, and Inuyasha paused, knowing he'd struck a cord. "You know full well what I'm talking about."

"You lie," she growled, rage barely contained below her human skin.

"Do I?" A rhetorical question, of course, though Inuyasha was certain he'd gotten the point across. His grip eased, and he let go of her wrist, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "Forgive them, Sango. Maybe then, you can forgive yourself."

It took him by no surprise when she slapped him hard enough to draw blood from his lip. She was gone before it even hit the floor.

* * *

She ran.

Farther, faster, harder than she ever had before. Slipping through the tangles of moonlight and darkness like a shadow, ignoring the sting of every branch and bramble to catch her hair or strike out at her flesh until she tumbled blindly, crying out as she hit the ground hard on her hands and knees.

For many long moments she dared not move, willing away the sickening pain she felt seep in on her chest with each straggled, broken breath. Perhaps, if she lay there long enough, she'd never have to move at all. She could just slip away, into the oblivion in which she belonged.

"Why do you run, huntress?"

_If only._

"Why do you care?" Sango wheezed, not bothering to turn and face him, much less get up out of the dirt.

She didn't have to. He was there before her, that ever-steady look of smooth condescension in place like a stone mask.

"Hn. I don't," the fire apparition intoned, effortlessly. "You're becoming something of a nuisance, though. No matter where I go, you always seem to find me."

"That certainly doesn't say much for your skill, then, does it?" she said, never missing a beat, even as she lifted herself to a standing position. "Are you really that easy, or is it that you want to be found?"

His sword was at rest below her chin before either of them realized it was drawn, and she stilled in morbid excitement. The comment was closer to home than he would have preferred, it seemed, and she knew it. His eyes narrowed in slightly at the feral gleam in her own deep, chocolate irises, and Hiei realized with a growing sense of unease that it had been exactly what she'd wanted.

He would have taken her up on it any other time, but something was amiss. After their session that afternoon, he hadn't expected to see her again for a few days. Hiei, himself, wasn't quite ready for another go-round like that one just yet, and he knew for a fact she had nearly dislocated her shoulder. That kind of pain wasn't easily ignored, even by a demon's standards.

Hell, she wasn't even dressed for this, he noticed, eyeing the simple cotton yukata with suspicion. And the slippers—hardly running shoes. She'd left suddenly, that was certain. Her hair was bereft of the typical ponytail she used to keep it from her line of sight, instead left to hang in waves of tangle and silk about her face. The hollow of her eyes pronounced in stark detail within the thinning lines of her face, and he couldn't help but wonder when the last time she slept was.

He breathed, suddenly weary with the unknown constricting in his chest. "Go home, slayer," he said, lowering his blade and sheathing it with a snap as he turned to walk away. "I won't play your games tonight."

He snatched the dagger from the air without turning, just as it whistled passed his right ear. "Fight me!" she cried, furious at his dismissal.

The fire apparition dropped her blade to the ground, decidedly disinterested as he continued on his way. "I don't take orders from humans," he scoffed, never bothering to look back.

The girl screamed. Literally screamed like a creature clawing out from the gates of Hell, a great cry of war and death in a restless cacophony of hate as she launched herself at him, ready to kill him with nothing but her own dull, human fingernails.

He spun just in time to block a poorly executed swing to the back of his head, wincing when she took the opening it left his midsection to make a hard strike to his sternum. The blow drove the wind from his body, but her assault was relentless, and Hiei had no time to consider a countereffort. They were barely a vapor trail, flitting back and forth as he fended each strike with fluid ease.

It was too easy, really. The girl was reckless in her attack, so consumed by malice she was very nearly sloppy in her approach. It was the first time Hiei had ever seen her anything less than strictly composed. Really, he should have seen it coming, and at least a part of him felt the old, familiar sting of guilt creeping in. He'd wanted to believe it was sheer nerve and solid determination to best him on her part that drove her on. In truth, it was just continually growing aggression, a far uglier burden to bear. She was as angry and scarred up on the inside as he. Funny, really; he'd spent so much time concerned about how she affected him, he'd never considered how _he_ might be affecting her.

It was a vicious cycle between them. They fed off of each other like two parasites, no host to sustain either of them.

And maybe, it was time to stop.

She lashed out again, and he gripped her tiny wrist in the iron clamp of his fingers, slinging her to collide painfully with the trunk of a large maple. Without preamble, he captured her waist, pinning her arms at her sides and caged her between himself and the tree using the greater weight of his body.

"You will stop this senseless struggle at once, slayer," he rebuked in a tone that left no room for argument.

Naturally, Sango renewed her efforts with fervor. The huntress kicked and swore, snarling like a beast caught in a snare. She bucked forward sharply to unsettle his distribution, only to meet with the business end of his blade suddenly at her throat. She stopped short, just in time to avoid slicing herself, though the flame in her eyes told him she might just do it anyway.

"I said that's enough," he spoke softly, though the words left an impression like that of a thousand heavy stones. For a long moment, they remained in the web of her anger, until her muscles eased minutely and the fire that burned within her eyes turned to something steel as cold determination. And when he was satisfied she'd not pursue the matter further, he let the edge of his sword drift back into place at his side.

He dropped it altogether when she turned the battlefield upside down, claiming his mouth with her own, vicious and brutal in ways unfamiliar to him as he stood motionless and wide-eyed. Her body went slack as she pulled him closer still, probing and exploring the planes of his body with urgency, demanding response as he, too, let his eyelids flutter closed, and his lips gave in to the soft rhythm of hers.

Futile, he realized. Humans ran for one of two reasons: catch or escape. It shouldn't hurt that now he knew which.

But just this once, Hiei could let them both pretend.

She was pliant and sweeter than he ever deserved, and he brushed his calloused fingers down the line of her jaw and slope of her neck, wrapping them in the silk of her hair as he slowed their kiss, mapping the feel of her into memory.

She shuddered, breathless, as he pulled away, and he took her by the shoulders, touching his forehead lightly to her own.

"I cannot give you this," he said, a tenderness in the deep roan of his eyes none would have thought him capable of. One step back. "You are more than what you seek, Sango."

Two steps into the darkness. "And I am not what you need."

* * *

Jin needed a stiff drink. He'd never been much of a drinker, but tonight, he was inclined to make an exception. He rummaged through the cabinets with all the grace of an elephant in panty hose until his eyes settled on the bottle of firewater Genkai had stashed in the very corner. Jin took it, and set the bottle down roughly as he reached out for the biggest shot glass he could find.

Hopefully, the old psychic wouldn't care too much. Besides, that's what she got for letting him know where she kept it.

He poured a healthy shot, swigging it back and relishing in the warmth that swam down his chest and burned in his belly. He poured another, just as stout as the first, and choked it back just as quickly.

He sighed, slumping down onto the closest stool and feeling the heat work its way into his nostrils as he sucked down another. He'd be sick soon at this rate, but the wind apparition simply didn't care. He'd be sick anyway after what he'd seen.

Honestly, how could he have expected things to turn out any other way? It was a fool's mission, and he'd known it. The girl was too much for him--too good, really. What could he have possibly done for her, anyway? She didn't need him.

And he had been too late.

He'd seen them there, wrapped around each other at the base of that red maple tree. Jin had known it was coming, had seen the looks between them. Still, it was too much for him to bear.

But he didn't get angry; he didn't call them out.

He left them their moment and slipped away as the shadow he'd become.

The demon threw back another, ignoring the warm disorientation that set into his senses as he set his sights on the gift he'd planned to give her. A waste. Maybe, if he hadn't sat on the damned thing for the last week…maybe, if he hadn't gotten it at all…

Jin snarled and slung it across the room angrily, pretending not to care when it broke upon impact, spilling beads like rain across the floor.

_Why had he ever let her get under his skin?_ He slouched forward with a sigh, reaching for the bottle again. He refused to dwell on could-have-beens. Tonight, he would drown her memory, and tomorrow, he'd never see her again.

"You'll get nothing accomplished that way."

The wind apparition went stock-still, blood boiling at the very sound of the demon's voice. "Shouldn't you be somewheres else, lad?" he said, alcohol clouding the normally light timbre of his voice into something sinister brewing below the surface.

"You have more important things to concern yourself with than my whereabouts, shinobi," Hiei sneered. He had no patience for the wind master's pity-party this evening. "I go where I please."

"That so?" Jin replied, throwing back another. He stood, only a slight swagger in his step as he set the glass down upon the counter hard enough to crack the rim. "Sango might have somethin' to say about that, she might."

The fire apparition sighed heavily, a look in his eyes that, had he been sober, Jin might have identified with. "Idiot."

In retrospect, it might not have been the best thing to say. The more than slightly intoxicated wind apparition took one hurling lurch forward, breaking his fist across the demon's face like a hammer blow.

Hiei's head slung hard to the left where he stayed motionless for a moment. Slowly, he righted himself and spat the blood from his mouth, setting the wind demon beneath the weight of his scalding, red-eyed glare. It wasn't his most intense, but something about it must have gotten Jin's attention because he made no other move to strike; just stood there breathing hard and wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Hiei was a demon of no regrets. And while he couldn't think of a single reason to redeem Jin, he knew someone else that could use the help. Unlike him, she deserved it.

"She doesn't want me, fool!" the fire apparition snapped, his patience wearing thin as he wiped the steadily streaming blood from his bottom lip. He snorted, rolling his eyes at the confused fog that dropped over Jin's features. "You rely too heavily on your eyes. Things are not always as they seem."

"But…" the demon trailed off, "I saw it m'self, lad…"

"Honestly, you're even dumber than you look," Hiei intoned. "I can't imagine why she hasn't leapt straight into your arms," he continued sarcastically, turning to melt away in the shadows. "Tell your shinobi brother he can keep his contacts. I've got some searching of my own to do."

And then he was gone, leaving Jin with nothing but an empty bottle.

* * *

He'd been thinking about this moment for months, but he still couldn't find the words. How could he ever? She was beautiful, even now—dirty and damn near broken, curled in on herself at the river's edge. His heart seized in his chest at the sight of her, feet dangling in the clear, frigid water and yukata torn down to her shoulder. She lay on her side, hair fanned out about her like a burial shroud; shattered like a porcelain doll.

She was aware of him, he knew. Even as she was, Sango could never turn off her instincts. She was a fighter, right down to the very core.

Still, she failed to acknowledge him, and Jin feared what his sudden approach would do. So dangerously deceptive, she might disappear like a whisper or take his head without warning. It was one of the first things that drew him to her, that unpredictability.

In this moment, he was willing to take a chance. Slowly, he stepped to the riverbank, easing himself to the ground at her side. She was facing away from him, but Jin didn't mind. She had her reasons, and honestly, so did he.

They sat in silence for nearly a half-hour before he swallowed the knot in his throat and reached into the folds of his shinobi robe to retrieve what he'd come to give her. It had taken him all night to find them all and string them back together, but Jin would have spent a lifetime if he'd had to.

He clenched his fist around them and said a silent prayer before he eased closer and laid them gently in the palm of her upturned hand.

She said nothing at first, and Jin felt his demon heart flutter like a hummingbird's wings in anticipation. However, she granted him no mercy, and the only indication Sango gave that she even knew what he'd done was the sudden hitch and shudder of her breathing. As far as Jin was concerned, it was pure torture, but he wasn't going to push it. Pushing a girl like Sango was a medicine for disaster. This was his only shot, and he knew it. If he failed now, there would be no other chances.

Still, the silence stretched as an eternity. With each passing second, his heart grew a little heavier.

He was about to give up and apologize for troubling her when she finally spoke, her voice a merely another shadow in the breaking grey of morning.

"How did you find me?"

The demon looked out across water toward the sun stretching its golden fingers across the sky and painting the cool dawn a canvas of rose and tangerine. He shrugged, a shy turn to his lips as he responded.

"I always know where ya are, love."

He glanced over, the light flush to his cheeks magnified when he found the demon slayer leaning up on her elbows and facing him. If ever there were a time, it was now. He turned slightly to face her, swallowing past the desert in his throat to find the words he knew he didn't have. But he would say them anyway.

"I...I think," he started, clearing his throat and internally groaning at his own inability to communicate. "No...I _know_ you. As ya really are. I know it sounds a wee bit crazy, but it's true." Jin paused, struggling for the right phrase. "I donna know how else to say it. I canno' promise ya anythin' an' I've nothin' left ta give, but I'll do my best by ya for as long as you'll let me, girl. …You're a part o' me, somehow, ya are. Right 'ere," he said, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand, and when she didn't jerk away, bringing it slowly to his chest to rest above his heart.

"You're _here_, Sango...where you'll always be."

It was the look in her eyes that stopped him. Something was there, buried within the melancholy depths of that haunted gaze. Jin could see it all; every wall she'd so carefully placed torn to the ground, the pages of her soul burning to ash. She trembled, and it took everything he had not to reach out and pull her to him as she began to crack beneath the pressure.

He wondered if she could feel the tears beginning to slip down the smooth planes of her face as keenly as he could.

"A demon of the wind," she uttered quietly, clenching the rosary to her chest like a lifeline as her voice crumbled to ruin. "How very ironic."

There were things in the world that Jin did not understand. Similarly, there were things in the world that Jin understood he was not supposed to. This, he knew implicitly, was one of those things.

"It troubled me at first, you know," she continued. "I thought Naraku's mark had tainted you; that a holy spirit couldn't possibly..." she trailed off, reaching a timid finger out to trace the scar upon his right palm. He'd had it from the time he could remember. It had never been as sensitive as it was in that moment.

He shuddered as she ghosted the tracks of his skin, working her way along the dips and lines of his face, whispering along the contours of his temple.

"You have the same eyes," she breathed, mapping the shape of them to heart as she lost herself in that deepening blue. "Amazing."

It wasn't fair to either of them, and she knew it, but the truth was seldom kind. The demon slayer stood swiftly, shaking her head. "Your soul is well-traveled, friend," she choked.

He caught her wrist as she turned away, and Sango froze in place. "You know more than ya let on, lass, but I don't care. I'm 'ere, however it be ya need."

"Please," she whispered. "Don't."

"Don't what?" he said, calmly. "Don't feel? I'm sorry, love. Too late for that, it is." He took a chance, then, knowing he'd never forgive himself if he let her leave this way. The apparition slipped a hand around her waist, spinning her as he tugged, and brought her to her knees before him with a startled whimper.

"_However_ it be ya need," he repeated, taking her tiny hands within his own and looking down on her, gaze hopeful and terrified at once.

"I…" the huntress started to shake outright, desperation breaking her from the inside out. Sango flung herself into his chest and buried her face within the folds of his robe, her body wracked with heaving sobs.

Jin made himself a sanctuary, wrapping around her in soft reassurance as she finally gave in to the need to cry.

And he smiled, just a little. It was where he belonged.


	4. Epilogue

**A/N: Been a while, huh kids? Not much here, but I felt like there were some loose ends that could stand to be tied up, and concepts I never fully addressed in the body of the story. Thus, we have that epilogue I talked about back in March. Hope you all have enjoyed this little project of mine, and that you enjoy this just as much. Peace, all, and please feed the author if you are so inclined.**

_**Epilogue**_

_"When I feel I'm slipping further away, I remember that every day I get a little bit closer to you..."_

"You're gonna burn a hole in it like that, man."

The demon started, straightening up abruptly and with enough force to strike the branch above him with a pronounced thump. He hissed, scrunching one eye closed as he rubbed his sore crown and maple leaves drifted down upon his shoulders.

"Damn it, Urameshi ya' right lil' bugger," he grouched, expression a disgruntled pout that only made the detective laugh that much harder. "Ya don' be sneakin' up on people like that, man!"

Yusuke only snickered helplessly, much to Jin's ultimate chagrin. "Not my fault your reflexes are slow," the former detective said, grinning. "You should have felt me coming a mile away."

Jin eased back against the trunk and screwed his face up into his most pointed glare, which, Yusuke noted, still wasn't all that intimidating. "I's busy is all, lad," Jin grumbled.

"Busy?" Yusuke wondered aloud, glancing back toward the well house. "Busy what, stalking?"

Jin flushed visibly, his mouth slack for a brief moment. Why did they always seem to come back to this? "I don' _stalk_, man!"

"Right, right," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "You _observe_, I forget." The wind apparition looked as though he might have a retort on the tip of his tongue, no doubt full of carefully placed expletives that Yusuke wouldn't be able to understand. Jin was impossible to decipher when he really got going; hell, it had taken Yusuke months to understand most of the heavy Irish dialect the demon spoke in normal tongue. Pushing it through at 90 miles per hour was still beyond his capability.

Yusuke was decidedly smart enough to cut him off before it reached this point. "Relax, man. Relax," he placated. "S'not why I'm here. Keiko and Kagome wanted to make sure you guys are coming tonight. It's dog boy's last hoorah in the world of indoor plumbing, and Keiko's gonna be pissed if anybody misses the goodbye bash. They've been working on this thing for weeks."

Jin was aware of the situation. Painfully so. It was just too dangerous to keep the portal between worlds open when it was no longer necessary. Their line had been drawn in the sand, and those that had the choice had made it.

At least, he hoped so.

Yusuke followed the demon's troubled gaze as it settled once more on the small, wooden building and sighed. "She'll be back," he spoke quietly, giving the unnamed fear voice for the first time. "She always comes back."

It was true, and Jin knew it, but it didn't ease the lingering doubts seeping into his mind like a fog. The last year hadn't been exactly easy for either of them. He'd known from the beginning that he loved her, but no matter what the depth of his feeling, he couldn't love enough for the both of them. She might have accepted this, along with the knowledge of who he really was, at the river's edge that day, but that certainly didn't mean she was just going to fall into his arms and they would live happily ever after like some ridiculous human pixie tale…or was it fairy tale…Jin could never manage to keep it straight.

Regardless, life simply didn't work that way. He hated to admit it, but Sango was…well, damaged. More than he could have ever realized at the time. The course of her life's path had taken her through atrocities that most humans could not fathom, much less relate to, and while she had remained proud and strong on the surface, she had suffered immeasurably beneath the skin. It had taken its toll, and for the first few months, especially, Jin found her withdrawn and often vengeful. Sometimes, she was just down right paranoid.

And despite the strides she'd taken in the time she'd become acquainted with Inuyasha, knowing that her dead love lurked beneath the surface of a creature she was taught from birth to hate and distrust had not helped matters any, for either of them.

This was particularly hard for Jin to swallow. It was difficult to live with the knowledge that your soul was not entirely your own. It wasn't easy to live your life while in the shadow of another's. It was painful to wonder if, when she looked at him, it was really him that she saw.

The knowledge of it often made him jealous and terribly insecure, guilty in the possibility that he'd trapped her within an arrangement she might have only taken because of who he had once been, angry with her if that were indeed the truth. They fought, and fought often, and it was his shame to know that in these instances he was seldom kind.

However, he hadn't been lying to her when he'd told her that he'd be there, no matter how it was she needed him, and Jin had learned the meaning of patience and humility better than most.

Eventually, all that had been left unsaid between them was said; eventually, Sango's scars began to heal; eventually, she smiled when he entered the room, and thus, his scars were on the mend, as well.

Still, it was difficult to remember when he stared into the unending black of the portal to her world. He sighed, knowing faith was his only friend at the moment. "Aye lad," he said softly. "She does."

"So, what have you got to worry about?" Yusuke asked in a tone that gave Jin the impression he was trying to convince himself just as much. Jin raised a brow at this, and Yusuke huffed. "Look, if you're so worried, why don't you just hop on over and get her? Not like you haven't been back with her before."

Also true, Jin noted. As a matter of fact, it was the first time Jin had not gone back with the slayer since she had determined to face her past and journey back through the well. It pissed Yusuke and Kuwabara off to no end that they couldn't get through to see what lay beyond, but they hadn't the connection that Jin had.

Still, he wasn't about to make use of it now. Sango hadn't told him, but she hadn't had to. This time, this trip was different. This time, she was saying goodbye.

He grinned to himself a little, digging up the courage he did not feel to tell himself that it was the right decision for her—that this was what she wanted. "Nah," he said. "Not this time, boyo."

He wouldn't have had to, as it turned out. Voices emerged from the well house, just then and Jin slipped down from his chosen branch to the ground, carefully avoiding the one he'd cracked his head on earlier, and Yusuke cuffed him on the arm as two familiar figures appeared in the light of the doorway.

"See," the detective beamed at him, relief evident. "Told ya!"

Jin resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they meandered across the lot, closing the distance between Sango and Inuyasha, the latter shifting the weight of a rather heavy looking bag on his back and making it a point to bitch as much as possible.

"I told you I'd carry it, Inuyasha," she said, more amused than annoyed by the sound of it.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to make it back sometime this week," he replied with a half-hearted scowl. If Jin hadn't known them any better, he might have been jealous. "Besides," the hanyou grouched, casting a look in her direction before abruptly flinging the bag at Yusuke. He caught it, though just barely, and lost his footing. "Yusuke needs something to do besides stand there and look stupid."

"Hey listen here, Dog Boy," Yusuke snapped, having just found his breath again. "You may be leaving, but that doesn't mean I ain't got time to kick your ass good one more time first!"

"I'd like to see you try it!"

"Oh yeah—"

"Honestly, gentlemen," Sango interrupted, lips upturned lightly. "Don't we have more pressing matters? We've got a party to get ready for if I remember correctly."

"Whatever," Yusuke grumbled. "You guys are coming, then? Cause Keiko and Kagome are gonna take it out on me if I tell them you'll be there and then you don't show, you know that right?"

"Good," Inuyasha remarked snidely. "They'll make it a point not to be there."

Yusuke glowered at him but wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"We'll be there, lad," Jin said with a smile. "Cross m' 'eart."

The detective looked pacified, and turned toward the shrine steps. "Good," he said, struggling to adjust the heavy bag onto his back. It didn't look like much, but the distribution was awkward. "Cause you'd be about the only ones who weren't there. Kurama said Hiei is coming back from the border, and he's bringing a chick. Can you believe that shit?" Yusuke laughed, and Jin glanced out of the corner of his eye to Sango. She chuckled, and he felt something in his heart stir and then let go when she did not appear to be bothered at the news.

"Chu and Rinku are supposed to be dropping by, too," he continued, oblivious to the turmoil he'd set loose and dispersed only a moment before. "Touya is _supposed_ to be bringing the booze…"

Jin tuned him out as the others made to follow him from the grounds, though he paused when he noticed the half-demon reach out and tug Sango's arm. She glanced in his direction and motioned for him to keep going.

"We'll catch up," she said.

It made him uneasy, to be honest, but the wind master would respect her wishes, and turned to make his journey up the stairs, stopping to meet Yusuke at the top.

"What's with them?" he asked.

The demon shrugged, though he thought he knew, and while he tried not to eavesdrop, he couldn't really help the bits and pieces of conversation that drifted into his attention. At least, that was the story he was going to stick to if she noticed.

"You sure?" he heard him ask, looking at her hopefully. "This is it, Sango. There's no turning back this time."

Jin could smell her tears as much as see them, and he detected Inuyasha shuffling nervously on his feet. He almost felt sorry for him; Inuyasha was even less adept at handling crying females than he was.

She reached out to him, took his hand gently and squeezed. Neither of them had been very much for goodbyes, that much Jin knew, and he suspected this was as close to a hug as either of them would grant right now. She glanced in his direction, and Jin felt that knot of unease tighten back up into his stomach. Was she really? Was she sure?

She smiled, and Jin felt warmth flood through his face and into his chest.

"I'm sure," she said. And somehow he just knew that, indeed, she was.

"Hey!" Yusuke yelled, giving Jin cause to jump for the second time that day, though thankfully, he did not concuss himself this time. "What's the hold up?!"

"Keep your shorts on, asshole," Inuyasha growled, making his way toward them with a glare of overall disapproval. "We're coming."

Sango smiled as they reached the top, letting Inuyasha walk on ahead with Yusuke, who was making it a point to mutter impatiently. "Bout damn time," he said. "I wanna get there early."

"We've got plenty of time," the half-demon fussed.

"Yeah, but if I know Kuwabara he'll already be dancing by himself by the time we get there," Yusuke supplied, amusedly. "Bet ya five bucks he'll be puking by ten."

Inuyasha smiled openly, and Jin couldn't help but think if he were staying, he and Yusuke might have been better friends than they had allowed themselves.

"Feh. You're on."

But Jin had better things to worry about, and as their voices grew distant, he let them go, content to twine his fingers with hers. And when she tugged him back for just a moment, and brushed her lips sweetly against his, there was no more doubt. All was well.


End file.
